


37 Days Since Case One

by AnExhaustedArmadillo



Series: Case One [3]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Description Heavy, Inspired by The Walking Dead, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnExhaustedArmadillo/pseuds/AnExhaustedArmadillo
Summary: Carwood Lipton was in a coma. Next thing he knew, he was in the apocalypse.(Borderline The Walking Dead plagiarism)





	37 Days Since Case One

The first thing Carwood noticed when he woke up was the dryness of his mouth. He stretched his lips apart, tongue smacking against his teeth dryly. Slowly, he opened his eyes, rubbing the crust from his lashes. He was even slower to sit up, muscles weak like gelatin. He looked around and was shocked to find himself sequestered in a hospital room. Then, he remembered. The accident. Of course, it made sense that he would be in a hospital.

“Hello?” He said aloud, though his voice was barely audible. He did his best to clear his throat, though it was difficult due to the dryness of his mouth. He tried again, and was pleased that his voice came out louder. “Hello?” There was still no response.

Carwood was mildly confused. He wasn’t in the hospital often, but he had been led to believe that nurses and doctors had a much greater presence than this. He sighed to himself, wondering how long he’d been in the hospital for. Not wanting to wait for a nurse or doctor, and anxious to find some water, Carwood sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He placed two shaky feet on the floor, his legs feeling the remnants of a long sleep all too painfully. One uncertain step after another and Carwood managed to make his way out the door and into the hallway.

He hadn’t been particularly surprised when his hospital room had been empty. The room held his bed alone, and he hadn’t expected any family to be waiting for him to wake up. He was, however, surprised to find the hallway equally as abandoned. The lights on the ceiling were out, and Carwood found himself worrying that something had happened while he was in the hospital. Then, Carwood began to wonder sickly just how long he’d been in the hospital for.

Feeling his heart pounding in his ears, Carwood searched several of the empty hallways, occasionally calling out in hopes that someone would answer. No one did. With every step he took he felt himself getting more and more nervous. He tried to calm himself. Maybe it was all a horrible, confusing dream and he was still in the hospital. Maybe this was all some elaborate prank, though Carwood didn’t know who on Earth would pull a prank like this.

Eventually, after he didn’t find anyone at all in the hospital, he made his way outdoors. He was relieved to see that it was daytime. Something about the sunlight assuaged part of his fear. At a first glance the town outside looked equally as abandoned at the hospital. Carwood was relieved to see that he had been in his local hospital, he wasn’t very far from his house. Not really knowing where else to go, he decided to head home. Heading home felt like the comfortable option.

He kept a sharp eye out as he made the twenty minute walk home. There was no sign of life. In fact, all the evidence pointed to the opposite. Doors to houses were open, windows cracked haphazardly. Cars were left in the street, some of them having crashed into poles or fences. Carwood found it difficult to quell the sick feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe that everyone had died and he was the only person left, but he wasn’t foolish enough to ignore the obvious signs of disaster. He still prayed that everything was just a dream and he was about to wake up.

When Carwood got to his house he was relieved to see the door was still locked. The key he’d left under a potted plant outside his door was still there and he breathed a sigh as he stepped over his welcome mat and into his house. His legs were still shaking and his heart was still pounding but he did his best to ignore it.

Carwood went to his fridge first, and, ignoring the stench of rotted food, reached for a lukewarm water bottle and began to chug it, addicted to the feeling. He was finished before he knew it and soon reached for another, gasping for air. Once his thirst was quenched he moved to the upstairs of his house, where his bedroom was. The hospital gown he’d been wearing did little in the way of protection or warmth and he was glad to be back in his own clothes again.

Carwood wasn’t sure what he should do next. Staying in his house seemed like a logical choice, but it could also be incredibly foolish. Whatever had gotten rid of everyone else in the community could be a threat to him as well. No, Carwood decided, staying was not an option. The priority was finding another person, ideally someone who could explain what the Hell had happened while he’d been comatose.

Luckily, Carwood was not particularly attached to his house, and leaving it did not pose any particular emotional challenge. He packed enough clothes to last him for a week as well as all the nonperishables in the house and the rest of his water. Carwood’s car was still parked in his garage and his shoulders sagged in relief when he started the engine and found it still worked. Hopefully that meant he hadn’t been in the hospital that long. He struggled to ignore the voice in the back of his head whispering that he’d been asleep for years.

Without dwelling on it too much, Carwood began to drive. That was the key- not thinking. Carwood knew he could not let himself get in his head about what was happening, or he’d break down. He decided to drive towards the city, figuring there was a greater chance of finding someone. He tried to ignore all the broken down cars on the side of the road as he drove. He might’ve driven for hours, it might’ve been minutes. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to think about it because he still hadn’t seen any signs of life.

Suddenly, Carwood slammed on the breaks. To the left of the highway, on a patch of grassy land, there appeared to be a person. There was an outstretch of wooded land that the person seemed to have come from. Parking his car, Carwood could not contain his nervous energy as he stepped outside to greet the person.

“Hi,” Carwood said, unsure of what to say. The person had their back to him. “Um, I’m Carwood. I don’t- I have no idea what’s going on here. Can you ple-” He cut himself off abruptly when the person turned to face him. He gasped. The person’s eyes were milky white, his face slack. It looked as if the skin on his face was decaying, though Carwood knew that couldn’t be true.

“Whoa,” He tried again as the person took a few shuffling steps towards him. “Are you alright?” He asked, but the person didn’t respond, just took a few more steps in Carwood’s direction. Carwood could hear him moaning unintelligibly. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, he took several steps backwards. This seemed to excite the person who took several more steps, faster this time.

“Look, buddy, I don’t want any trou-” Carwood started to say but he was cut off. He hadn’t anticipated the person lunging at him so quickly and he slammed on his back into the dirt, the person coming down on top of him, snarling and moaning aggressively. Carwood managed to get a hand around the other person’s throat, trying to hold him off of his body, but the other guy reached his slimy hands towards Carwood, fingers pulling at his face. Carwood was puzzled to notice that the person seemed intent on biting him. This couldn’t be happening.

Lipton managed to roll the person off of him, scrambling to his feet and trying to back away, but the person just moved towards him again, mouth snapping. Tackling him again, Carwood’s only defense was his elbow placed against the moaner’s neck, holding him just barely at bay. He could feel the person’s spit dripping out of his mouth and onto Carwood’s arm. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold the person off. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what the other guy _wanted_, he just hoped he could outlast him.

Suddenly, a burst of warmth splashed across Lipton’s face and he was horrified to realize that it was blood from the other person’s skull. He gasped dumbly.

“Did it bite you?” Snapped a voice from above him. The dead person’s body was pulled off of him.

“What?” Lipton asked in shock. The person standing above him had dark hair and violent eyes. He was holding a crow bar covered in blood. He knelt down, placing a knee on Lipton’s chest, shoving his face into Carwood’s.

“Did. It. Bite. You?” He asked slowly.

“N-no,” Lipton said. He was so confused. He didn’t understand a bit of what just happened. The person who had a knee digging painfully into his chest seemed satisfied with his answer, however, and moved. He reached a hand out to help Carwood up and, hesitantly, he took it.

“What the Hell were you thinking?”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, pretty much Rick Grimes. It be like that sometimes. Yes, the man at the end is Speirs. Yes, there will be more.  
Comments give me happy brain chemicals and they make me want to write, so if you feel like it please drop one below!  
Thanks for reading!!!


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